Word Association
by daisherz365
Summary: Sherlock is going through a psych evaluation before he reveals himself to those he cares for dearly, not to mention the world. Mycroft handcuffs him to a chair and it begins.
1. Chapter 1

**WORD ASSOCIATION**

(_Sherlock is going through a psych evaluation before he reveals himself to those he cares for dearly, not to mention the world. Mycroft handcuffs him to a chair and it begins_.)

**Well this came from a place. Not sure what place but a place. Enjoy if you can. – day**

**xx**

"You're familiar with this, aren't you?" The psychiatrist asks him as she settles into the chair in front of him. Sherlock's eyes are shut. He doesn't want to be here, that is clear. He looks better than she had been expecting she doesn't jot that down.

"Being shackled to a chair by my brother, of course. Being evaluated by someone who loves to pick brains; a few times. Can we get this over with?"

"You're eager. Good, I'm sure you've done this before but concerning your time away and what has been implied we only want to be sure that you are clear mentally to be around the people who you left to save. Your friends."

"Friends?" He tested the word on his tongue as he sat there. It wasn't like he hadn't used it before. Only about three times ever but he wasn't counting it. Counting, he had begun to slip into his mind palace in the morgue door where counting meant something entirely different than it used to.

"Yes. I'm going to say a name and you're going to say the first one that comes to mind, okay?" Sherlock scoffed but opened his eyes and sat up a bit straighter as he knew he was supposed to do this to return to his normal life.

"Fine." He stated.

John Watson.

"Best Friend."

Greg Lestrade.

"Adequate."

Mrs. Hudson.

"Family."

Molly Hooper.

She watched him, noticing how he seemed to not know what to say. She repeated her name again. Still nothing.

"_Sentiment_." He said finally.

She went through it again, just to be sure that he wasn't going to change his answer somehow.

John Watson

"Loyal."

Lestrade

"Good man."

Mrs. Hudson

"Home."

Molly Hooper.

"_Love_."

She was writing and he was watching her as his brain rattle from the overexertion that he was causing whenever it came back around to Molly Hooper. It was confusing him. He didn't know what love was but he said that that's what she was.

Why was that?

"Your answers stayed relatively the same but you veered when it came to Molly. Have you changed your mind about her or your relationship with her?"

"I don't have a relationship with Molly Hooper." He stated calmly.

"She saved your life, do you feel that you owe are anything?"

He stayed quiet.

The doctor let out a sigh. "Moving on, who do you expect to have a more outlandish reaction to your return?"

"John."

"Why?"

"He's going to punch me."

"How do you know?"

"He's done it before, he'll do it again." He sighed.

"I'm going to say a word now and you tell me who it reminds you of. Okay?"

"Yes."

Fall.

"John…and Molly."

Forgive.

"John."

Forget.

"No one."

She paused, he could hear her scribbling down on my clipboard.

IOU.

"Moriarty."

Support.

"All of them."

Food.

"Mrs. Hudson."

Coffee.

"Molly. Black, Two Sugars."

Force.

"Lestrade."

Acceptance.

"John and Molly."

Gunshots.

"Mrs. Hudson."

Sniper.

"No one."

I'm sorry.

"Everyone."

Important.

"Everyone."

"Who is more important, Sherlock?"

"I can't say."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both. This wouldn't solve anything."

"Okay. Then tell me about two. Start with John."

"John Watson is a soldier, a warrior in the darkness of life. He protected me when I didn't see a need for it. Alone protects me, he shot people for me…he shot things. I almost got him killed and for that I struggle with. He will punch me and I will take it. I miss him."

"When do you miss him?"

"Every day."

"Tell me about Molly."

He took in a deep breath before beginning. "Molly Hooper is a pathologist at St. Bart's Hospital. She's good at what she does but she does have an odd fascination with cats. Moriarty dated her once, she dumped him. She has nervous energy that seems to make her stutter when around me."

"She fancies you."

"She did. I don't know if that's the same anymore."

"Because she hasn't seen you since your death."

"Because of what I have done since."

"Killing people."

"Yes."

"Wouldn't that make them all fear you, not just Molly Hooper?"

"The others wouldn't be subjected to the notion of that. She already knows. She sees more."

"What do you mean she sees?"

"She sees me."

There was a pause.

"Are we done?" He didn't seem all that deterred by the fact he had admitted one small weakness.

She nodded her head and pressed a button on the side of the chair. A man came through with a key, he bent over to unlatch the handcuffs that were restraining him.

He headed for the door when she said one more word. "Counting. What does that mean?"

"Why?" His head turned down, his teeth gritting against each other.

"It's just a question."

"No." He stated before walking briskly out the room.


	2. Chapter 2

CONFIRMATION

**Here's the second and final part. I hope you guys enjoy it. Thanks for those who liked the first part by the way. I knew I would eventually get around to writing a second part. There is a photoset for this up on my Tumblr. Check it out if you'd like to. Sincerelydayyy dot tumblr dot com. Oh, and let me know what you think! **

**Much love, **

**day**

(_Molly has another meeting with the shrink before Sherlock reveals himself. Later a reunion takes place.)_

__They're sitting on a large deck on the roof of one of the taller buildings in the city. They weren't in a locked room with a nameplate on the door. They were out in the open and that should have worried Molly Hooper but she was just tired of having to talk about anything that remotely concerned Sherlock Holmes and his fall. The last time she was in the presence of this woman she had to have take a few days off because she couldn't focus long enough to do her job.

She understood that she was just doing her job but she asked things that Molly didn't want to talk about because of the strain that it had put on her emotionally. However, now she sat in a chair across from the woman who lacked her notepad now. "Why did you want to meet with me again, Doctor Hooper?"

Molly lets out a sigh as she replies, quietly. "I don't really know."

"Is it because of Sherlock Holmes? Have you seen him?"

"Sherlock?"

"Yes. I had him in my office just yesterday."

"Why?"

"He had to be evaluated, just as you did. Does that surprise you?"

"No. Yes...I don't know."

"Do you want to tell me what happened now? It might help you come to grips with what you've had to endure mentally for the past couple years."

"You already know everything."

"Are you sure? You never answered the one question that I was required to ask."

"Who told you to ask that question?"

"I can't disclose that information but the interested party isn't trying to harm you in the slightest."

"You mean Mycroft Holmes? He's the one who set this all up."

"He is one of them, yes."

Molly was quiet for a little while. Her thoughts tracing back to before any of this mattered. Everything that happened between her and Sherlock and the things that did not rushed passed her in an instant. It all seemed to overwhelm her, she bowed her head and put her face in her hands.

"I don't know the answer that question. All I know is that he's alive, and that is all that really matters. He'll be back to running around London with John and maybe need my help in the morgue but besides that I don't know anything else."

"What if he doesn't?"

"What if he doesn't what?"

"Need you?"

Molly lifted her head up to stare at the woman before her. She had such empty eyes, or at least she seemed to just not understand the weight that was on the petite pathologist's shoulders at this second. Or the effect that came with her question. What would she do if he just decided that she didn't matter? Would it even change anything for her? She honestly didn't know. For the longest time, Molly didn't think that she matter to him but when he told her differently she accepted it for a little while.

However, she hadn't heard from him since she cleaned him up and helped him get out of Bart's.

"I'll just do what I've always done, keep on going. I was fine before I met Sherlock Holmes and I'll be fine if he chooses to not want me in his life. I can't say if he does, but I'll deal with it if it comes."

"I don't think you have to worry about that though, Molly."

"Then why ask me that?"

"You seem uncertain about something. It was a shot in the dark but like I said you don't have anything to worry about."

"No offense, I doubt he divulged much on the subject. He doesn't talk about anything with anyone, really."

She raised her hand in mock defeat. "That may be but I know without him saying that he does hold you in high regard. You count to him in some way."

"Maybe." Molly said as she turned her head to look up at the clouds in the sky. It looked it was going to rain. Not very surprising.

It wasn't much longer before she took her leave. She didn't feel any better about anything but she knew that it wouldn't be long before everything started to unravel. Whether that was a good thing she didn't know. All she wanted to do is go home and curl up with her cat (Toby) and forget that she even came up here.

So, she did just that for a few hours in her most comfortable pajama shorts and a tank top with blue sucks that came up almost to her knees. They were fuzzy and soft and she loved them.

When she came out of her room to get some tea and possible something to eat from out of the fridge, she nearly dropped Toby was very insist that he not get off her shoulder when she was walking past her sitting room to see a figure sitting on the small cushioned area where the window was. She flicked on a small lamp because of how dark it was and had to hold back a smile when she saw the lanky form of the only consulting detective settled with his legs pulled up to his chest and an arm slung over it while he stared at the raindrops hitting against the window.

"Sherlock." She whispered a few moments later when Toby jumped down and started to saunter over to the man who only looked down at the meowing feline as he stretched his paws to pat against his leg trying to reach him.

Soon enough he slung his legs over and made his way over to her. His eyes which looked like a sea shade of green began to search her face, there was a look of pure concentration on his face before he seemed to relax. Her name falling from his lips. "Molly."

He was wearing pajamas too, she noticed. Where he was staying, she wondered. He wasn't back at Baker Street as far as she knew.

"You saw that foul shrink today." He told her shortly.

Molly smiled. "Yes."

"Find out anything interesting about yourself?"

"Nothing I didn't already know."

"Good. Good. Anything you'd like to ask?"

There were several of those actually but there was only one she needed to ask. A confirmation of sorts.

"Do I still count?"

Sherlock eyes widen for a fraction before he carefully slid his arms around her and encased her in his arms and whispered against her head. "You always count, always."


End file.
